


Heaven or Hell

by Judithan



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judithan/pseuds/Judithan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in pair with Sympathy. I’ve never cared much for angels or demons, none of it matters. Though, I could swear this kid is a real, honest to god angel. What would that make me then, I wonder. Sol/Sin. Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven or Hell

Sin has an innocent face, marks running all along it from years of his eyepatch pressing into it. His nose is perked up a bit, tiny as a button -I’d often pinch it when he was a kid, just to rile him up. Even his jawline is still so young, effeminate even, though that’s most likely just because of who his father is - Ky was always thought to have a very beautiful face, not to mention his body’s features being more slim and royal than brutal and masculine.

To be quite honest, I’m so sick of looking at this kid and feeling a hole in my chest. Only a few years old, and he already looks like a young adult, like he’s been around enough to actually understand bloodshed, like he’d be prepared for what these wars were about. Though, that’s just me being optimistic, obviously. He doesn’t understand a single thing past his own, small world view. Part of that could be my fault, and most likely is, though I’d chalk the rest of it up to the fact that he’s just so goddamn young -he has no idea about anything in this world. It makes me sick thinking of what I’ve pushed him to learn, what I’ve forced him to do.

The first time he had to kill, I saw, for the very first time, the light in his eyes dim. He didn’t speak for hours, maybe even days. It was only a rabbit, but he couldn’t hardly bear the burden of it. Of course, now he just puts on a cheeky grin as he hunts, pretends that he’s okay with harming things - but that would be him lying to himself, trying to suppress the kindness that his mother bestowed to him.

He’s got a kind heart, and I already know it’s going to kill him. It makes me sick thinking about.

Stirring in his sleep a bit, he doesn’t wake, only scratches his arm a bit before rolling over, his back to me. If I didn’t know any better I’d assume just like everyone else that he was a fine and exemplary young man just freshly turned adult, but I know that he’s barely older than 8.

When Ky told me he needed a huge favor, I could have never dreamed it would be something like this. There was no way I could have ever believed that his wife was Justice’s daughter, and that he had a child - which they so ironically named Sin. There was no way they could have tricked or persuaded me into raising this child, and yet here I was, a half a dozen years later, with a bratty, overemotional, oversized toddler trotting after me calling me ‘old man’ like it means something.

God did it mean something, though.

I roll on my back, covering my face with my hands, making some sort of tired, groaning noise. All I want is to just go to sleep, pretend I didn’t think of any of this, that none of it matters, that I’m just an emotionless being, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be okay. All I want is to just be as cold and distant as I pretend to be. All I want is for people to stop needing me.

But they’ll always need me. And so I’ll keep going.

I let out another tired groan, sitting up in a small fit of tired annoyance. Sleep isn’t going to come easily, apparently.

“Old… man?” It’s barely a whisper, but looking over, I see Sin looking up at me with his one eye, half-asleep and even more groggy. Taking a single attempt at pushing his hair down, he fails miserably as it all springs back up, and he forfeits wordlessly - only sighing with discontent.

“Go back to sleep.” My tone is harsh, too loud for this hour of the night, and I partially regret opening my mouth. Though it’s already done, so I don’t fret or say anything more. I’ve never been one for words, anyway.

Sin is, however, and immediately gets up from the bed roll he set up on the floor, stumbling a bit as he does so. He adjusts his pajamas as he stands up, repositioning the old, white t-shirt I gave him so it’s not falling off the one shoulder, and swivels his pants a bit. Honestly, he looks pretty close to what teenagers used to look before the world went to hell, besides the eyepatch of course.

The open window blows the curtains open for a moment, and in that brief, brief second, he glows, shimmering like some kind of angel in the moonlight.

“Ol-uh” He stutters, stammering, and shuts up. “Sol?”

It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s addressed me, and I’m almost embarrassed by the sudden lump in my throat.

“Are you okay?” Gentle, even concerned, he takes a step forward, extending a hand to me, as though I need it. When it finally connects to me, I feel a wetness, and it’s only then that I realize what it is - tears. How did I miss that? When did I start crying? Why - why now?

“I’m fine, go to sleep.” Regardless of how vile my tone is, he doesn’t respond accordingly, and just pushes himself onto the bed, sitting himself on my crossed legs and wrapping his arms around me as well as he can. I don’t exactly move at all to make this easier on him -if anything I’m trying my hardest just to pry him off of me. I don’t want kindness, I don’t want gentle caring, I don’t want any of that. I just want to feel... numb.

“I care about you, Sol. Don’t think you’re going this alone, okay?” Even with our relationship being so arms-length distanced, he’s so incredibly genuine, and I can’t help but want to hold him tight.

It’s been so long since I’ve willingly hugged another human being, and I can practically feel an irritated spark of humanity. This child is so, so very human, despite being anything but, and I can’t help but feel the irony burn.

Soft to the touch, I continuously run my fingers through his hair, my other arm clutched onto his back to keep him close. Even with the hug being no doubt overbearing, I can hear a slight hum from his lips, and his smile only grows and grows. He curls into me even more, like a cat getting comfortable. He lacks the claws to do any damage, though, and I let him latch on as much as he needs - and to his unknowing, I need him just as much. This boy could never know how much he truly meant to me.

My heart aches, and I just hold him tighter and tighter, and I can nearly feel the holes in my soul filling up.

**Author's Note:**

> This ship means so much to me, so I just had to write the other half of it. Sorry if Sol is a bit out of character - I just really enjoy the idea of him letting his guard down, to truly give way to his humanity.


End file.
